Page 107 of Puck Yes

He turns to Ivy and whispers in her ear. I watch her breath hitch, then she clutches her purse tightly and heads to the ladies’ room.

42

SOME PATIENCE PLEASE

Ivy

I stare hard at the items on this table without really seeing them. My vision blurs, and my neck goes white hot.

I try to focus on…a set of Calloways. They’re apparently really good clubs and—

Oh god. The pulse flutters faster between my legs.

I swallow, then grab the edge of the table as the speed picks up, and arousal spikes to the top of my soul.

I swallow my sighs as my body sings.

“I’ve been wanting to get a new set of clubs,” Stefan muses to Hayes. They’re both standing across the table from me.

“Me too. But do you like these?” Hayes asks him, and my knees wobble. He must have just hit the remote in his pocket. Now the silent vibrator in my underwear is caressing me like a fucking rock star. I want to close my eyes and moan, but I fight off the onslaught of pleasure.

From over the table, Stefan smiles my way. “Do you like golf, Ivy?”

I breathe out hard, afraid to speak.

“What?” he asks innocently. “I didn’t hear you. Can you turn up the volume?”

And Hayes, the fucker, cranks up the speed in his pocket. I rocket to the moon. My legs nearly give out as my panties try to destroy all my control. Pleasure floods every cell in my body. It’s so intense, the insistent, delicious buzzing right inside my panties as they play me in the silent auction room.

Guests float by, mingling and chatting, perusing travel and entertainment packages, golf pro lessons, and bottles of wine, all while my mind spins into bliss, my body racing to the edge.

“Did you say you liked golf, Ivy?” Stefan asks innocently.

My thighs clench. A groan threatens to coast past my lips. “Mini golf,” I bite out so I don’t gasp my pleasure into this room of charity golf attendees.

“So fun, isn’t it?” Stefan asks casually, a smirk shifting his lush lips.

“I love to play,” Hayes adds as the vibe hits me just so, just right, so damn good.

I want to fall apart in their arms. I want to let go. I want to touch them, kiss them, have them. I want to tell them with my lips and my words and my body how I feel with them.

But I can’t.

“I have to go,” I blurt out, then seize my chance. I wheel around, racing out of the auction room and heading straight for the ladies’ room where I tear off the panties. They’re no longer vibrating. Shoving them into my purse, I leave, my skin still tingling, my core still aching.

Down a hall, out the door, onto the course. My heart gallops and my breath comes fast. I march, needing air, needing space, needing to breathe. At the foot of the path, there’s an empty golf cart. I slump down into it, whimpering from the aftereffects of almost coming in public.

But more so, from the sheer pressure of wanting to express myself. Wanting to shout and to moan, to writhe and to whimper. I wanted to just…be with them fully.

But I couldn’t.

Seconds later, I hear footsteps on the path. Two pairs. “Hey, pretty girl.”

I look up. Hayes is here. So is Stefan.

“What’s wrong?” The question comes from Stefan. His voice is warm, full of concern.

“Did we push you too far?” Hayes asks in a tender tone.